The room used for psychological evaluation was much brighter than he expected. The dim light shone through the window onto a wood-grain lounge chair, which was particularly warm. The psychoanalyst is sitting in the shadows behind a recliner wearing a colorful beak mask in the shape of a parrot.
"Hello?" Ed asked tentatively.
"Hello. Are you Mr. Edgar Waikolo?" The male voice was neither high nor low, exuding a calm power.
"Yes, what's your last name?"
"It doesn't matter what my name is. To prevent unnecessary emotional connections, you don't need to know my personal identity, just think of me as a talking machine."
That’s hard to imagine, since I’ve already seen talking machines. Ed thought jokingly.
"Then what should I call you?"
"Just call me doctor, or, to differentiate myself from that sweet-toothed surgeon, you could call me psychiatrist."
"Are you talking about Rowan?" Ed asked.
The psychiatrist did not answer, but stretched out his white-gloved palm and motioned for him to lie down on the back of the chair.
Ed leaned on it, and there was still a little warmth on the back of the chair, maybe it was the remaining warmth of the sun, or it was the warmth left by Byakuya lying on it before.
"Do you feel anxious or have auditory hallucinations from time to time while performing tasks?" the psychiatrist asked.
"This is not the case yet." Ed replied truthfully.
"In daily life, have you ever had difficulty concentrating or thinking normally, or even temporarily losing your memory?" the psychiatrist continued to ask.
"Well... I lost my memory once, and I still haven't recovered from it until now."
"I've seen your resume." He smiled knowingly and continued to ask, "Have you ever had any thoughts of self-destruction?"
"No, not at all. If possible, I would rather live to the end of the world." Ed also smiled.
"Then I wish you good luck. Next we have to enter the real test session. I need to briefly enter your dream to observe the logic and stability of the dream to determine your mental state."
The psychiatrist struck the match and lit the scented candle next to him.
Strictly speaking, it has nothing to do with the word "fragrance". It has an obvious corpse smell, just like the smell left after a whale carcass exploded in the street ten years later.
Datura, moor root, corpse lily, and other hallucinogenic ingredients. Ed only smelled the three most obvious smells among them. Although he did not need this hypnotic method to invade dreams, for defensive reasons, he still briefly studied hypnotic herbs.
The other party is indeed a dream peeper.
"As a link to dreams, aromatherapy itself is slightly toxic and doesn't smell good, but I guarantee that it will not put a burden on your body. Please don't resist and follow my guidance." The psychiatrist continued softly. Said softly.
It is not safe to allow a dreamer to spy on your dreams. But once you actively interfere with the dream to prevent the invasion, the other party will also notice something strange.
As the aroma spreads, sleepiness gradually comes.
Ed knew in his heart that the Bureau of Special Investigation was already suspicious of his identity, and he must not let the other party see more problems.
"Follow this sleepiness and don't enter the palace of thinking. I need to see your most real dream."
He did not follow the guidance of the psychiatrist, but directly entered the palace of thinking, then quickly lay down on the bed and entered the second dream state——
Here, Ed used the Keeper program to construct a scene from memory - the Eaton Detective Agency.
This dream must be normal and logical. He restored the appearance of the detective station as perfectly as possible, even the potted plants outside the door were exactly the same.
[Dream invasion detected... But I think you already know that. There shouldn't be any need for me to try to intercept him, right? 】
Sylvie asked using visual fire text.
"Of course, let him in."
Ed sat in front of the fan-shaped desk, straightened the buttons on his chest, and continued to organize files as usual. This is a tedious process, and I believe the other party will lose interest soon.
Ding bell, the doorbell rang.
"Please come in."
The psychiatrist walked in. In the dream, he still looked like wearing a parrot mask.
"Hello, what can I do for you?" Ed asked friendly.
"I want to see Mr. Eaton." The psychiatrist pretended to be an ordinary customer.
In the dream, the dream voyeur must pretend to be a part of the dream. Once the host notices something strange, the dream voyeur will be attacked by the incarnation of the subconscious mind.
"Unfortunately, Mr. Eaton is out. I am his assistant. If you have any entrustment, I can give it to him for you."
"I'll wait here for a while. When will he come back?"
"I'm not sure... Please sit down first and let me make you a cup of tea."
"No, just keep busy." The psychiatrist lowered his head and sat on the sofa.
Ed nodded and continued to return to his seat to work on the documents. He could feel the other person's eyes quietly sizing him up, but Ed didn't make any reaction and continued to deal with the matter at hand.
Finally, after confirming that Ed's dream state was stable and normal, the psychiatrist stood up:
"I have something to do. I'm leaving now. See you later."
Then, he walked out of the door and exited the dreamland.
"The intruder has been confirmed to be offline. I'm afraid he has never seen such a boring dream in his career."
Sylvie sat on the sofa and gently rubbed her black hair on her forehead. She only appears when Ed is alone, and the other person is indeed gone.
"...So what are you waiting for, my dear good sir?"
"Wait a little longer and let him take the initiative to wake me up. This will make it appear more real." Ed replied.
After a moment, as expected, a crisp finger snapping sound came from his ears.
Ed escaped from the dream and sat up from the recliner. Behind him was the voice of the psychiatrist and the rustle of the ink pen writing on the paper:
"Very good. Based on your performance in the dream, it can be confirmed that your mental state is quite stable, A+."
"Oh, that's good..." Ed rubbed his brows, looking sleepy, "By the way, can I see other people's ratings?"
Mental status ratings among agents are public within the squad. After all, an investigator's mental state may well mean the difference between life and death for a colleague, and building mutual trust is important.
"certainly."
The psychiatrist handed over the file, and Ed took it and looked through it:
"Gummy" has a mental health rating of B-.
"Who is Gummy?" Ed asked curiously. He heard Mr. Eaton mention this code name last time, but he didn't remember this person.
"Dr. Rowan, he has severe sugar addiction."
Ed curled his lips, he didn't expect that tough old doctor to have such a cute code name. He rejoined the team after the mint robbery, so Ed naturally didn't find out his code name when he first joined the company.
"Bakuya" A-, it seems this guy didn't lie to me.
"Anvil" A-, there's nothing wrong with this guy except his bad temper.
"Sea Monster" A, ha, I really didn't expect this...
"Stranger" D, what happened to him?
"Jun Ying" B+, this is Mr. Eaton's code name. He must have been in the Bureau for a long time, so a lower rating is reasonable.
"Hound" D-, wait a minute, Quinn's rating is lower than The Stranger? !
"What's wrong with Quinn? Is it because of lycanthropy?" Ed couldn't help but ask.
"Not exactly. In her dream, she was a wolf. She was completely unable to communicate. She was also extremely aggressive and extremely dangerous."
"I see..." Ed lowered his head and continued reading, his eyes resting on the last line of small words:
"Blue Butterfly" E. Unable to evaluate?
"What does Charlotte's E rating mean?" he asked the psychiatrist, pointing to the last line.
The voice behind him suddenly became hoarse and trembling, with a faint hint of terror:
"It means that no dream peeper has ever been able to walk out of her dream alive..."
